Here there be dragons
by She-who-loves-fanfiction
Summary: "People are going to start suspecting something soon, you know." "What, about us being friends?" "We're friends?" Hermione hated his incredulous tone, and the way he smirked, and the way he raised one eyebrow, and the way the light from the burning braziers lit up his pale, sallow face and made it look alive. "Not exactly." Dramione, sixth year, AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Sadly.  
A/N: This is my first Dramione fanfic, so no flames, please! Don't forget to follow, favourite and review if you like it!  
Thank you!  
Enjoy xx  
**

Draco Malfoy could remember the exact moment when Hermione Granger disappeared.  
It was a rainy day in November, the 29th, to be exact, and it was dinnertime. All of the students were gathered in the Great Hall, digging ravenously into the multiple platters of food that decorated the long tables, and Draco had just been sitting there, half-heartedly listening to the story that Blaise was telling to anyone of the other sixth-year's that would listen.  
"-And then she said, I've never met another boy like you-"  
It was then that Draco Malfoy's life turned on its head. Blaise was cut off by a terrified scream that filled the Hall, and Draco shot to his feet in surprise, along with a lot of the other Slytherins.  
"Hermione!" Potter yelled at the same time as Weasley, and Draco watched in horror as his bright, brave, sort-of-secret-girlfriend fell, crying, onto the flagstones.

He was running, he realised, sprinting around the Hall and dropping to his knees beside her, unsure of what to do but willing to do _anything_ to stop her from hurting like it sounded like she was hurting.  
"Merlin, Granger, what is it? What's-"  
She tried to grab at his hand, and looked at him urgently, eyes filled with tears.  
"Draco…hurts-"  
And she was gone, fading into the stones as if she'd never been there in the first place, and Draco was left, kneeling on the floor next the Gryffindor table, stunned.  
"What the _hell_ did you do, Malfoy?"  
Potter yanked him up by the collar, green eyes blazing, and Draco didn't even react as the other boy shook him furiously.  
"What did you do to her? What did you _do_?"  
"Nothing." Draco recovered his composure, but inside he was hollow, filled with dread. "Must be your ego, Potter. That, or Weasel King's stupidity. I could feel them both from the other side of the Hall."  
Professor McGonagall came rushing over from the Teacher's Table.  
"All of you! My office, immediately!"

 _Sometime earlier…_

Hermione Granger readjusted her bag on her shoulder, shivering in the autumn chill, as she made her way down to Knockturn Alley. Harry and Ron were in George's shop, visiting him, and she hadn't told them where she was going. It would only worry them.  
 _It'll be fine_ , Hermione Granger mentally reassured herself. _You just need to find out what's going on._

The shop she was heading towards was grimy and dingy, seemingly abandoned; only the short man cleaning down the window with a dirty cloth gave any sign that it was still open and hadn't succumbed to debt like so many of the other shops in the hidden street. There were people in _Borgin and Burkes_ , and Hermione guessed it was the Malfoys again. They'd left, but still. He and his mother might have left their evil furniture in there and had to go back for it.

Suddenly a huge man emerged from the shadows of the alley, leering at her, and Hermione gasped in shock.  
"Well well well. What do we have here?"  
"A person. Going shopping." Hermione said slowly, like she was talking to a child.  
"Yeah, but what shop you going to?"  
"Yaxley's."  
"What you going there for?"  
"Why do you think?" Hermione snapped impatiently, and the man stepped forward, revealing his small beady eyes and pasty complexion.  
"Careful, missy. People might think you're looking for trouble."  
The rusty bell on the door of _Borgin and Burkes_ let out a feeble clang, and Hermione's heart sunk as Draco Malfoy stepped out, brushing dust off his obviously expensive black suit. He stopped, a smirk on his face as he assessed the situation, and then seemed to make up his mind.  
"Ah, Pansy! There you are!"  
Malfoy was at Hermione's side in a heartbeat, and threw his arm around her shoulder, suppressing a shudder.  
"I've been looking for you _everywhere_!"  
"Who are you, then?" The man demanded. "The lady and I-"  
"She's sixteen." Malfoy sneered. "And pretty undeveloped for it."  
Hermione stomped down hard on his foot, but Malfoy didn't react, just kept smirking and spoke with a smug sneer.

"Draco Malfoy, and this is Pansy Parkinson. What were you saying?"  
The man scowled and skulked off.  
Malfoy immediately snatched his arm away from Hermione like she'd burnt him.  
"What the _hell_ are you doing down here, Granger?"  
"Going to _Ancient Curses and Repellents_." She replied snottily.  
"Knockturn Alley is no place for a Mudblood."  
"You'd think that Hogwarts is no place for Death Eaters' children, but here you are, shopping for school things."  
It escaped from her before she could stop it, and Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously.  
"I just saved your neck, Granger, so I'd watch your mouth."  
"I had everything under control."  
"I'm sure you did, if having everything under control means being found dead, naked, fifty miles from here, in two days' time."  
"It wouldn't have come to that. I had my wand."  
"And what were you going to do? Send a little _Stupefy_ at him?"  
Hermione crossed her arms and turned her back on him, walking towards the dingy shop with a peeling sign above the blackened wooden door: _Yaxley's Curse Experts; Open and flourishing since 1756._

"Where are you going now?"  
"It's none of your business."  
"You're going to get yourself killed."  
"I don't see why you should care. I'm a Mudblood, remember?"  
"No." He said quietly, and she got the impression that if he was willing to touch her he would be holding her by the shoulders now, shaking her, trying his best to knock some sense into her. His voice hissed in her ear. "Not here, you're not. You're Pansy Parkinson until you leave this alley, you understand me?"  
She nodded dumbly, internally fuming.  
"Good. Now get what you need and get out."  
Hermione took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

The squirrely man hurried to behind the counter as they entered.  
"How can I help you?"  
"I…" Hermione looked awkwardly at Malfoy, who rolled his eyes and wandered off to have a look around at the objects on the sparse shelves.  
"I think…I mean…do you have any books on curses? Like, how to get rid of them?"  
The man looked affronted, peering at her over his spectacles. "Of course I do. What kind of business do you think I'm running here? They're at the back." He pointed one gnarly finger towards where Malfoy was standing, flicking through a dusty volume with a bored look on his face.  
"Thank you."  
Hermione reached up nervously for the first book, which was titled _Curses of the Darkest Art_ , but couldn't reach it. Malfoy plucked it off the bookshelf and held it out to her.  
"Honestly, Granger, you're so short you're practically a house elf. It's pathetic."  
"Oh really? How's Daddy doing in Azkaban?" Hermione hissed.  
Malfoy let out a snarl and stormed out of the shop, slamming the door behind him. The bell gave a feeble tinkle. Hermione, feeling triumphant, took another book off the shelf, and went over to the counter.  
"Just these, please."  
"Fifteen Galleons."  
Hermione looked at him, aghast, and then frowned.  
"I could take my business somewhere else, you know. Five."  
"Ten."  
"Seven."  
"Fine." He said begrudgingly, and she handed over the money.  
"Thank you."

Stepping out into the dark street, Hermione shivered in the cool air and jumped as Malfoy materialised out of the shadows, much like the man earlier had.  
"What do you want, Malfoy?"  
"Merely to congratulate you on your profound stupidity."  
"Excuse me?" Hermione shot back, stung.  
"You really thought you could come down Knockturn Alley and just waltz in and buy something?"  
She hated how he always made her feel so small.  
"Well, that's what I did, so yeah."  
"Don't you remember, you also insulted me?"  
 _Did he think she was stupid?_  
"Yep, that too. As I recall, you called me a house-elf only seconds before."  
"That was true." He sneered, and she slapped him hard around the face.  
He swore viciously, and spat at her feet. "Filthy Mudblood!"

Hermione walked hurriedly out of Knockturn Alley and bumped straight into a very concerned-looking Harry.  
"Hermione! Where did you go-"  
He kept talking, but Hermione wasn't listening. Her head was pounding, and she needed to lie down.  
"I'm fine, Harry. I think I'm just going to go…to the bathroom…or something."  
"Were you in _Knockturn Alley_?"  
"Yes…I mean, no, of course not, excuse me-"  
She got to the toilet just in time to throw up.  
"Hermione dear? Are you alright? Harry said you looked unwell-"  
"I'm fine, Mrs Weasley."  
"Are you sure? Maybe you should go back home and take a nap."  
Mrs Weasley's concerned voice echoed in the otherwise empty bathroom.  
"Maybe." Hermione agreed; it would give her time to start on her new books.

Tom the barman was happy to let Hermione use his fireplace, so she flew into the Burrow, alone, ten minutes later, clutching her bag. Ginny had offered to go with her, but Hermione had refused. Whatever was wrong with her wasn't stop anyone else from having a good time.

Bill called out a greeting as she shot out of the fireplace, but she didn't answer him.  
She couldn't breathe.

Hermione burst into her and Ginny's bedroom, reaching for the handle to shut the door, but her hand passed through the doorknob like it wasn't really there.  
Letting out a surprised yelp, Hermione reached for it again, and thankfully she could clench her fingers around it and shut the door. Panting, she sat down heavily on her bed and tried to calm her uncontrollable breathing, leaning forward for her bag where her two purchases were.

Leaning back against the headboard, she lost herself in the gory descriptions of curses and their causes. It was only in the second chapter, named ' _Curses that be not passed by father nor mother',_ Hermione found what she was looking for. A page titled _Vivere Manes_.  
Hermione read the page, tears rolling off the end of her nose and splattering onto the book, smudging the old, dried ink.

 **Yes...a lot of mystery here. Some Draco and Hermione action!  
Keep reading for more!  
Muchos gracias,  
She-who-loves-fanfiction xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine! Woo...*sighs unenthusiastically, then remembers that it's time to write and perks up*  
A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the support! I hope all of you, including but not limited to Awesomeness620, (yes this is a Dramione fic), NikkiJane21, (thank you!) and YouBlitheringIdiot (I hope this is exciting!)  
This is set in their sixth year, just in case of any confusions, and it is AU, not canon.  
Enjoy xx**

The next time Hermione Granger saw Draco Malfoy, he was entering the Great Hall with a huge smile on his face, and Harry was missing.  
The next time Draco Malfoy saw Hermione Granger was when she was laughing on the platform with Weasley, and he didn't even notice her, not really.  
So when they bumped into each other, literally, in the middle of the corridor a few days later, neither of them were expecting it.  
Harry had decided that Draco was a Death Eater, and that was what was running through Hermione's head as she stood up again, rubbing her bruising leg, wishing she'd decided to spend her free period in the common room instead of in the library. Malfoy, who hadn't fallen over but just wobbled slightly, watched her pain with apparent relish.  
"You're sick, you know that?" Hermione snarled.  
Malfoy actually had the decency to look wounded. "And why would you think that?"  
"Not only did you attack Harry, you knocked a girl over and don't even have the manners to help her up!"  
He cocked his head curiously, as if she were a puppy that he just done something amusing.  
"But you're a Mudblood."  
Hermione had heard it from him so many times that she didn't even get upset anymore. Instead, she pulled out her wand and drew a line on her wand, cutting it shallowly.  
"What on earth do you think you're doing, Granger?"  
Malfoy looked alarmed at the sight of her blood, and Hermione smiled.  
"Look, Malfoy. Same colour as yours. Not mud. Bright red. So what you're saying is technically inaccurate. My blood is just the same as yours."  
He just smirked, like he'd seen it all before. She fought the urge to slap him again, and, shouldering her bag, went to leave.  
"Where do you think you're going then, Granger?"  
"Library." She spat, walking as fast as she could down the corridor, trying to ignore the fact that he was following her.  
"Why are you following me?"  
"It's amusing when you try to walk quickly. I keep thinking you're going to fall over."  
Hermione huffed.  
"Stop it! Don't you have some puppies to kick?"  
"Lucky for you, I ran out of puppies." It sounded like he was smirking.  
Hermione snuck a look at him.  
He was smirking.  
"Stop that! Leave me alone! Go bully someone else!"  
"Is there someone else you'd rather me bully?"  
"No!" Hermione whirled around, exasperated. "I'd just rather you _left me alone_!"  
Malfoy blinked, like he hadn't expected such a loud voice to come from her.  
"Merlin, Granger, for a house elf you've got a pretty good set of pipes."  
Hermione pulled out her wand. "Leave me _alone_ , Malfoy!"  
He smirked and pushed past her to leave, his hand brushing against her blouse.  
Then Hermione Granger did the unthinkable.  
She blushed.

Malfoy sauntered off down the corridor like he knew the exact shade of pink she was turning, and knew that he was responsible.  
Hermione sighed, a single drop of blood dripping from her stinging finger onto the stone floor, and walked down the corridor to the library, so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't even notice when she passed through the door like it wasn't there at all.

* * *

"Shut _up,_ Ron! I'm trying to study!"  
Hermione let out a groan as Ron kept playing with his new set of Gobby Gobstones, then stood up and left, on her way to the library.  
"Oh look, it's the Mudblood!"  
"The Mudblood? I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific, Nott. There are multiple of us."  
The weedy, sneering boy pulled out his wand, and Hermione's hand flew to her pocket.  
"I'll teach you to be so rude to you betters!"  
"Betters?" Hermione snorted. "Really?"  
A hex came flying at her, but she merely dodged it and put on a patronising tone.  
"No magic in the corridors, Nott. Ten points from Slytherin."  
He let out an enraged snarl, and a cool, bored voice sounded from the down the corridor.  
"Your originality _astounds_ me, Granger."  
"Oh sod off Malfoy." Hermione snapped, and he laughed, sending chills up her spine.  
"But things were just getting interesting! What were you doing, Nott?"

Draco's pale eyes bored into the smaller boy's brown ones threateningly.  
"I…nothing."  
"Excellent. Off you go then."  
Nott scurried off.

"What do you want now?"  
"Merely to ask where you were off to."  
"The library. To study."  
"Just to study?"  
"What else would I go there for?"  
"I don't know, there's a pretty soundproofed area around the back…"  
"Excuse me? What exactly are you insinuating?"  
He smirked at her condescendingly, ostensibly finding her amusing.

Hermione scowled, adjusted her grip on the textbooks in her arms and turned around smartly, nose in the air, marching off down the corridor. His footsteps echoed behind her.  
"Go away."  
"I don't think I will, thank you."  
"Oh you're just stinking old ferret, Malfoy."  
"Just a stinking old ferret, am I?"  
He fell into step with her easily, and she huffed, trying to walk even faster.  
"Yes. I'm just going to ignore you."  
So she did.  
At least, she tried to.

Draco grinned cockily as she stumbled on the stones, pushing the ache that was building in his head away. His 'extra-curricular activities' were taking their toll.  
"So, Granger, what's it like being friends with the famous Potter?"  
"Pretty frustrating, when there are prats like you going after him every five seconds."  
"You're putting yourself in unnecessary danger for him, though. Why?"  
"Because he's my _friend_."  
She stopped suddenly and span to face him, eyes narrowed.  
"Because, as hard as may be for you to comprehend, in your unloving, cruel little mind, I actually care about him."  
"My 'cruel little mind'?" Draco laughed, and she exhaled grumpily, before starting off towards the library.  
"I don't understand you, Draco Malfoy? Do you not care for anyone at all?"  
"No."  
"Not even your mother?"  
Draco pictured his frail, pale mother, standing in front of him in her vile green dressing gown.  
"No."  
"Wow." She laughed disbelievingly. "You really don't care about anyone?"

Draco thought for a moment, hands shoved carelessly in his pockets.  
"No."  
"That must be lonely."  
They were walking down the corridor then, almost like friends, looking at each other almost kindly.  
But not quite.  
"I don't need anyone." Draco spat defensively, and Hermione smiled a little sadly.  
"That's what you think. But everyone does."  
"What would you know about how I think, _Mudblood_?"  
Draco suddenly grew cold and hard, demeanour changed in a fraction of a second.

Hermione looked hurt.  
"I know that you can be a right pain in the-"  
Draco turned and stormed off, headache coming to a peak as he climbed the stairs to the seventh floor.

 **Did you like it? Let me know!  
This fic is pretty open at the moment, so if you've got any encounters or scenes you want to happen, I'd love to hear them. Reviews make me update faster, and thank you for all of your support. It means a lot!  
Obrigada,  
She-who-loves-fanfiction xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine! Woo...*sighs unenthusiastically, then remembers that it's time to write and perks up*  
Thank you for all of your reviews, and don't be shy to let me know what you think!  
Enjoy xx**

Her eyes were boring into the back of his head all throughout Potions, so Draco avoided her gaze. Her hand hit the air again and again, and he watched discreetly, knowing full well he was getting distracted. Hermione was laughing with some of the other Gryffindors, including a dark-skinned boy Draco _knew_ was called Thomas but pretended that he didn't. She giggled as the other boy joked, and Draco felt an inexplicable bubble of anger rise in his chest; he clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. A single strand of her curly hair fell into her face and Draco's fingers itched to brush it behind her ear, the way she did seconds later.  
 _Where the hell is this coming from? Get your head together.  
_ She turned back to her potion, still smiling, and Draco swore as his potion started to overflow because he hadn't been watching it. Rubbing his forehead, Draco winced as pain stabbed through his head and sighed, frustrated.

Hermione laughed as she turned back to her cauldron, Dean's joke running through her head and making her smile. Her potion was spitting, so she added some knotgrass and tied her bushy hair back in a ponytail, wiping her sweaty face on her sleeve.  
"How are you doing, Miss Granger?"  
"I'm doing fine, thank you, Professor."  
Hermione smiled wearily at Professor Slughorn, who nodded jovially and waddled off to peer into the cauldron at the next table.

The vapour was making her light-headed, Draco knew, noticing as she grabbed onto the edge of the desk and furrowing his brow as none of her 'friends' realised. He noted the way her fingers grappled with the wood, the way she shifted uneasily in her flats, face paling and pupils dilating.  
Hermione frowned, head swimming, and raised her hand shakily in the humid air.  
"Professor Slughorn, sir? I don't feel too well, would it be alright if I-"  
She trailed off, swaying alarmingly, and Draco watched with his eyebrows raised as she fainted, swiftly and quietly. The Gryffindor Thomas caught her, looking shocked, and shook her gently. "Hermione?"  
She blinked dumbly, eyelids fluttering, and gripped the boy's arm, using it to pull herself to standing again.  
"Mr Thomas, kindly escort Miss Granger to the Hospital Wing. I dare say the fumes are making her a bit light-headed."  
Draco snarled under his breath. "You dare to say, do you, you puffed up old-"  
Rolling his eyes, he stopped his rant as he turned away to get some more knotgrass: his potion was spitting.

* * *

"Going to faint again Granger? Let me know, I'll want to make sure I have a good view."  
"What do you want?"  
She sounded exhausted, and he smirked as he fell into step with her.  
"For a Mudblood, you're quite funny at times."  
"So?"  
"So you're better than the first-years. Your reactions amuse me."  
"Oh really?"  
"Yes, really." He said patronisingly.  
"Fine."

Hermione span around suddenly to face him head-on.  
"What are you doing in the Room of Requirement?"  
Malfoy stumbled, physically stumbled, and for a second his cold composure cracked, revealing panic underneath. Then he stood still, face blank, revealing nothing again.  
Still, Hermione had seen what he was really like.  
Just a little bit broken.  
"Nothing."  
"Don't lie to me, Malfoy. I may be a Muggle-born, but I'm not stupid."  
"I know you're not." He sighed, running his hand through his hair like a nervous tic. Hermione blinked in surprise, expecting a sharp word or an insult. Instead, she got a compliment.  
"Look, Granger, it's none of your business, alright?"  
"It is too my business if you're putting anyone in danger. Including yourself."

She put her hands on her hips, frowning stubbornly, and Draco closed his eyes.  
He could tell her, he knew that. He could stand there, in the empty corridor when everyone else, it seemed, was in class, and let it all come out. He stand there and talk for hours, talk to her, and she would listen.  
But deep down he knew he couldn't.  
"It's nothing, Granger. God, why do have to be so nosy?"  
Hermione blinked like she'd been slapped, and he winced.  
"This is why I absolutely _despise_ you, Malfoy! You let someone in, you let them get really close, you think they _might_ just have a chance, and then you push them away! You are despicable, and infuriating, and I wish you'd just-"  
Draco didn't know what to do, so he kissed her.  
Her lips tasted like pumpkin juice.  
"-go away."  
Hermione gasped as he pulled away, her beautiful brown eyes open wide with shock.  
Draco opened his eyes hesitantly, expecting to be slapped or hexed at the very least.  
When he wasn't expecting was for her to burst into tears and sink to the ground.  
"Um…Granger? Are you alright?"  
"Of course I'm not bloody alright!" She snapped angrily, wiping away her tears on the sleeve of her cardigan. "Draco Malfoy just _kissed me_ ¸ and it's the most I've felt _here_ in ages!"  
"What?"  
Draco crouched down next to her.  
"It's none of your business." She tried to sound spiteful, but the sight of her in tears wiped everything else from Draco's mind.  
"Hey, Granger!" He tried to sound stern. "Don't make me call you a house elf again!"  
Slowly, she stood up, hiccoughing, and wiped her eyes again.  
"I think I'm going to go."  
He tried not to sound disappointed, and failed.  
"But you owe me an explanation, Granger."  
"I don't _owe_ you anything." She picked up bag up from the floor. "If anything, you owe me. You kissed me!"  
Draco did the unthinkable.  
He blushed.  
"Are you…blushing?"  
"No."  
"You are!" Hermione laughed bitterly, smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Well, you would've thought it. Malfoy does have some sort of heart after all."  
"So, Granger, are we going to be meeting up again?"  
"I…um…I…Charms…"  
She pointed vaguely down the corridor as the bell rang, obviously flustered, and hurried off.

 **Oooh...let me know what you thought!  
I hope you liked it!  
Obrigada,  
She-who-loves-fanfiction xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine! Woo...*sighs unenthusiastically, then remembers that it's time to write and perks up*  
Thank you for all of your reviews, and don't be shy to let me know what you think!  
Enjoy xx**

"You know, you're supposed to be in bed."  
"You know, I don't care."  
Draco's keen eyes noticed the way she tucked her hand deliberately into the folds of her robes, out of sight.  
"What's wrong with your hand?"  
"My hand?" She feigned ignorance, and he pointed to it with his little finger quickly, a dismissive gesture.  
"What's wrong with it?  
"It's none of your business."  
Hermione quickened her pace.  
Ron had bailed on Prefect patrols, so she was rushing through the corridors without stopping when _he_ had emerged from the shadows and started walking along with her, his long legs easily keeping up with her speed walking.  
"I said, what's wrong with your hand?"  
"And I said, it's none of your business."

"What's wrong with your hand, Gr-Hermione?"  
Draco changed his tact, voice turning soft; her name felt silky in his mouth, like caramel, and conjured up pictures of Greek myths and dusty books. He knew the ancient myth about the girl Hermione, daughter of the most beautiful mortal ever, Helen of Troy, as his mother had forced him to learn them: it had been that, or Latin. Draco had never thought to make the connection between the Muggle-born bookworm and the beautiful princess of the story who had disappeared, but suddenly he found himself mentally dwelling on the hand-drawn images in the old book he'd studied, of the pretty girl with the curly hair-

Hermione held out her bruised and battered arm, and Draco let out a sharp hiss from between his teeth.  
"How did that happen?"  
"I...umm..." Hermione looked away, embarrassed as she remembered her impassioned loss of control. "I stamped on it."  
"You what?"  
"Stamped on it. And hit it with a book."  
"You did _what_?"  
"I...lost the feeling in it, and I was frustrated..."  
Hermione couldn't bring herself to explain the fear and horror she'd felt when her arm had no longer felt solid, or the fact that it didn't hurt, nor that she couldn't feel it at all.  
"Granger, why the _hell_ did you do that?"  
She fired up instantly, turning defensive. "I can do whatever I want!"

A hungry look came in his eyes then, a feral look, and it scared her.  
Draco slammed his arms down either side of her, not aware of when they stopped walking, and pinned her against the wall, leaning down so that he was eye to eye with her.  
"You want to bet?"  
Hermione looked up at him, eyes guarded, pulse fluttering in her throat, and for a minute they locked eyes, brown on grey, fire on steel.  
Then she coughed and the moment was lost as she ducked under his arm and started off again purposefully down the corridor.  
"People are going to start suspecting something soon, you know."  
"What, about us being friends?"  
"We're friends?"  
Hermione hated his incredulous tone, and the way he smirked, and the way he raised one eyebrow, and the way the light from the burning braziers lit up his pale, sallow face and made it look alive.  
"Not exactly."

* * *

Hermione was late for Transfiguration.  
Hermione knew she was late for Transfiguration.  
That was why she was running.

Draco was on his way to the Room of Requirement. That was why he was looking around furtively. Crabbe and Goyle were in detention, yet _again_ , and he was on his own.  
"Ah!" Hermione let out a shriek as Malfoy came around the corner, looking the other way.  
Hermione ran straight into him, and he went to grab her arms to stop her, but his hands passed right through her like she wasn't really there. She hit the floor, hard, and cried out as her shins whacked against the stones. "Oww…"  
Draco scrambled a few steps backwards, head aching like it had taken to recently.  
"Granger, what the _hell_ is wrong with you?"  
"What? I'm late for Transfiguration-"  
"No, not that. I tried to stop you from falling, and…"  
Draco trailed off and reached out to touch her shoulder. It was reassuringly soft and warm through her shirt. Hermione paled.  
"Not again, that keeps happening-"  
"That keeps happening? What do you mean, _that keeps happening_? Why haven't you seen someone? Why haven't you said anything? God, Granger, you're so _stupid,_ don't you know what that could-"  
"Know what that could mean? Yes, Malfoy, I do know what it means, and that's my business, not yours."  
"But, Granger-"  
"No buts, Malfoy. This isn't-"  
She flickered, literally flickered, in and out of sight, and Draco swore under his breath as she reappeared again, breathing shallowly and rubbing her forehead.  
"Granger-"  
"Why do you care?"  
Her voice was low and desperate as she clutched onto the wall like a life line.  
"What?"  
"Why do you care? This doesn't make sense! I thought I was just a Mudblood to you, Malfoy. Am I not?"

He leaned in and kissed her, gently, quickly, softly, and he tasted like apples.  
"I just...I don't know. Does it matter?" His breath was hot on her face.  
Hermione shivered, and her hands gripped his tightly, instead of the wall. He kissed her again, this time on the cheek, and Hermione trembled again.  
"Yes..." She mumbled. "Of course it...matters...but-"  
"You have Transfiguration." He reminded her, his breath hot on her ear. "You'll be late."  
"I think I'm already late." Hermione grumbled, but not unhappily, and stepped backwards. "Still, I better go."  
"Careful Granger." Draco smiled, a sly, crafty smile as she slipped off down the corridor, bag swinging.  
"Here there be dragons."

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